At Natchez, I left the boat, and stopped a day or two, to make the
necessary preparations to go over land on horseback to Texas. There is
a steamboat that plies regularly between this place and Alexandria on
Red River; and we should rather have travelled by water as far as that
place, and avoided crossing the Mississippi swamp by land; but the boat
had gone, and would not return under a number of days.
Natchez is an incorporated city, containing about three thousand
inhabitants. That part of it which lies under the bluff near the river,
is muddy, looks old and disagreeable; but the main part of the city
is situated on a high bank, two hundred feet above the river; chiefly
built of brick, quite pleasant, and makes quite a show of business. The
ground back of it, is full of gullies, and is unpleasant. It is an old
town, but has much improved within a few years.
Many people going to Texas continue on down the river to New-Orleans,
and there take a passage on board a vessel to some port in the
province; but my desire was to see the country, and therefore, I chose
to travel over land. A pleasant and companionable gentleman from the
State of New-York, who came down in the boat with me, agreed to bear me
company. Some acquaintances of his, with their families, were on the
road to Texas, and he like myself wished to see the country.
Having provided ourselves with horses, portmanteaus, fireworks, &c. and
obtained the necessary directions, we took an early start; crossed the
Mississippi in a ferry boat, for which we were taxed half a dollar
each; and took the road to Alexandria. We had some ill-forbodings
about the great Mississippi swamp; for just as we were about to cross
the river a gentleman, of whom we made some enquires respecting the
route, told us he thought it now impossible to travel through it in
consequence of the rains which had recently fallen. But we were all
equipped to go by land, and this, our only route; and therefore, we
determined, at all events, to push forward.
There is a road from the mouth of Red River, along its bank to
Alexandria, and this, we were afterwards informed, is the best route;
but it was seventy miles below us; and whoever takes it, must go down
in a boat.
Our route lay, for the first six miles, up the river near its bank;
and then we turned more to the west. We passed half a dozen cotton
plantations, some quite large, and saw an army of negroes picking it.
The cotton plant grows about as high as a man's head, has blossoms
about as big as that of a small rose, and resembling in appearance
the hollyhock, but more extensive branches. The pod is about the size
and shape of the outer covering of a walnut; and when ripe, it opens
in quarters, and presents the cotton in full view. A negro takes a
basket or a bag, and swings it at his side, and with his thumb and
finger picks out the cotton, almost as fast as a hen picks up corn. It
grows from the seed, is planted every year in hills like corn, and
cultivated in the same manner.
A field of cotton in full blossom, makes a fine appearance. After it is
picked, it is laid on a rack to dry; then ginned to take out the seed,
and put up in bales for the market. The rope and bagging used, are the
manufacture of Kentucky; or at least it brings more into market than
all the other States. I was told that one prime hand on good land would
_make_ ten bales of cotton a year, and raise corn enough to support
himself. The average worth of these bales is five hundred dollars. From
enquiries I afterwards made, I believe the plantations generally make
about seven bales to the hand. No wonder negroes are valuable in a
cotton-growing country.
Our route now lay through a dense forest--and the ground generally so
miry that we could only ride on a walk. Sometimes we came to the thick
canebrakes, about twenty feet high, and overhanging our narrow path.
Sometimes, we found the palmetto, which exactly resembles a large
green, open fan, standing on a stem a foot high, and so thick that we
could hardly ride through them, or see any path at all. Sometimes we
came to a sheet of water a hundred yards wide, in which a horse would
plunge to the saddle skirts, and for a while, become stuck fast; and
again, we would find a cypress swamp, full of cypress knees and mud.
Indeed it is the worst swamp I ever travelled over, before or since;
and sometimes, I thought our horses were stuck too fast ever to move
again.
These cypress knees are quite a curiosity. They start from the roots of
the tree, grow from two to four feet high, about the size of a man's
arm, but rather larger at the bottom, and are smooth, without leaf or
branch. They look like a parcel of small posts with the bark growing
over the top end; and are so thick, that it is troublesome to ride
among them. The cause or use of this anomaly in nature I cannot divine.
Eighteen miles from Natchez, we came to two log houses and a small
stream, called the Tensaw. We crossed the ferry, about twice the length
of the boat in width, and paid half a dollar each for ferriage. We had
now twelve miles to go to find a stopping place for the night, and
all the way, through a dense forest of lofty trees; and it was three
o'clock in the afternoon. The first half of the distance was decent
travelling, although we could not ride much of the way faster than a
walk. Then we came to a wet and miry road.
It began to grow dark in the woods. The trees were quite thick, and
hung full of Spanish moss; and there was no moon in the sky. The wolf,
the wildcat, and the owl, had pitched their tune for the night; and
soon, thick darkness shrouded around our path. The heavens were clear;
yet so dense were the foliage and moss, that it was seldom I could find
a loop hole, through which a star might cast its rays upon us. I never
had been in such a gloomy situation before. We were in a path, to us
untravelled; and by its appearance, seldom travelled by man. We had
shoals of muddy water to cross, and sloughs of mud to wallow through.
And then the night was so dark, and the track so faint, we frequently
lost it, and found it again with difficulty. It was ten o'clock at
night when we arrived on the shore of the lake, and saw a light on the
other side. We raised the ferryman after a while, and he came out and
took us over.
This lake is about a mile wide, and twelve long, and must have once
been the channel of the Mississippi. The ferriage here was half a
dollar each. On the other side, we found a good house, and a genteel
family within. They soon provided for us an excellent supper, which
was very acceptable after a ride of thirty miles over such an
execrable road. Not being much used to travelling on horseback, I felt
excessively fatigued and retired immediately to bed. My companion and
myself had each of us a good bed, and we slept soundly until after
sunrise.
The morning was fine, so we walked awhile along the shore of the lake,
before breakfast. It was about the twentieth of November, yet the air
felt as mild as a morning in June. The winter was following hard after
me, yet I had travelled to the southward and westward faster than the
cold weather. The coldest weather I had found on my route, was in the
State of New-York. There is a softness in the atmosphere of the western
States that is very grateful to the feelings, and is not found in our
northern climate. In going westward on the same parallel of latitude,
the air becomes sensibly more mild and bland. The air is very clear, so
here as in Illinois, I could discern objects much further than at the
North. I could see a house so far off, that it would not look larger
than a bee-hive. There had been no frost here, and nature wore her
livery of green.
This gentleman has a fine cotton plantation of rich alluvial land. His
house is built facing the lake, on an Indian mound, levelled down to
the height of about six feet. We took breakfast with the family in a
large portico on the back side of the house. It was a good breakfast,
on a neat spread table, and the lady at the head performed the honors
of it, with an ease and grace seldom equalled. We performed our parts
to a charm, both in eating the breakfast and complimenting the hostess.
This family were from the State of Virginia, and had been settled here
in Louisiana seven years.--The gentleman informed me they had generally
enjoyed good health, although they had sometimes been afflicted with
the fever and ague.
It is refreshing to the weary traveller, when far away from his home,
to find a spot in his path, where he can renew his strength, and repose
in peace. At such a spot he lingers, leaves it with regret, and
treasures it up in his memory.
I have often thought, that many persons do not travel in a right
spirit. They start on their journey with a full belief that all the
customs and modes of life they find, differing from those they have
been accustomed to, are all wrong, and proper subjects of censure
and dislike. They see nothing in its true light, enjoy nothing, find
fault with everything; and are continually running their heads against
a post. They are always on the rack; and probably punish themselves
as much as they do every one around them. But such a course betrays
a gross ignorance. Who can read the outpourings of madame Trollope's
brain, without being convinced that she had too gross conceptions,
and too strong prejudices, to write the history of any people, whose
manners were different from her own. She saw nothing, only through a
jaundiced eye; and she had too narrow and contracted a mind, ever to
make the important discovery, that the fault might be in herself, and
not in the objects with which she was surrounded.
Some prefer to be mere scavengers; and when they find anything gross or
impure, delight to exhibit it to the gaze of the world. I have often
thought of the severe reply of Dr. Johnson to a lady, who told him she
liked his dictionary, because he had no indelicate words in it. O, says
the doctor, I did not trouble _my_ head about them, but I see _you_
have been looking for them.
Other travellers think, the more fault they find, the more they will
be noticed; and they will be treated with the more deference and
respect. I once happened to ride in the stage with the venerable Chief
Justice Marshall. He was affable and polite, at peace with himself,
and displeased at nothing. In the same stage, as if nature intended
to exhibit two beings, in bold relief, and make the contrast the more
striking, was a testy young man, who found fault with every thing, and
was pleased with nothing. He cursed the driver, the stage and the road;
and the country through which we travelled was too execrable to live
in. At the hotel, where we stopped to dine, he keeps the house in a
continual uproar. The dinner bell rang, and we set down at the table.
For some reason, he did not come in immediately; and when he made his
appearance, the table was entirely full. This was too much for him to
bear. He cursed the waiter for not saving a place for him. The waiter,
as quick as possible, provided him a place at a side table. But he was
determined not to be thrown into the shade in this manner. The Judge
ate his dinner in silence; but this _side table_ gentleman kept a
continual cry for something. "I say, waiter"--bring me this, and bring
me that.--His vociferations became quite annoying. At length, he cried
out with rather increased vehemence, "I say, waiter, bring me a _fresh_
potatoe." The moment this was uttered, one of the gentleman at our
table said, "Waiter, give that gentleman a _fresh_ chair, I am sure he
has set in that one long enough." This was a damper. It caused quite a
laugh at the young man's expense. He became silent, and after dinner,
we saw no more of him.